No One Mourns the Wicked
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: When Edward Nygma is accused of being less intelligent than Harley Quinn, he devises a series of challenges for the clown girl to solve, using the Joker as bait. Will Harley be able to outsmart the Riddler before he harms her precious puddin?
1. Chapter 1

**No One Mourns the Wicked**

"…_Females of some species of bats have delayed fertilization, in which sperm are stored in the reproductive tract for several months after mating. In many such cases, mating occurs in the fall, and fertilization does not occur until the following spring. Other species exhibit delayed implantation, in which the egg is fertilized after mating, but remains free in the reproductive tract until external conditions become favorable for giving birth_…"

"Move it, losers!" interrupted the Joker, smacking Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch across the back of their heads. "TV's mine now!"

"We were watching that, J!" snapped Crane, rubbing his head angrily as Joker seized the remote and changed the channel.

"Not anymore you ain't," he retorted. "My soap's on and I ain't gonna miss it because you nerds wanna watch two flying rodents going at it. What kinda sick freaks are you anyway? Oughta be ashamed of yourself."

"It's science, you ignorant buffoon," retorted Tetch.

"That what you tell Alice? No wonder you never get a date," replied Joker, chuckling. They both glared at him. "You deaf?! I said beat it!" Joker shouted, shoving Tetch off the couch. "What are you waiting for, Crane? Hoping Harley will sit in your lap?"

For a man who had been bullied his whole life, being told what to do by the Joker was utterly intolerable for Crane. He opened his mouth to respond when Harley skipped into the room, pigtails bouncing, and beaming. "Got the TV, puddin'?" she asked. "Hope you didn't have to inconvenience anyone for it."

"Perish the thought, pooh. Jervis and Johnny were happy to move, weren't you guys?" asked Joker, grinning.

Crane glared at him but stood up. "Thanks, Johnny, you're a real pal!" said Harley, hugging him. Joker sat down on the sofa and Harley snuggled into his lap, making Crane's sacrifice rather redundant. Harley kissed Joker, murmuring, "I'm so excited for this week, puddin'. Do you think Hailey's gonna go through with the wedding?"

"Nah. She deserves better than that loser Jimmy, and she secretly knows it," retorted Joker. "I think she'll only realize once she gets to the altar, though. That's usually how these things work."

"You're so clever, puddin'," sighed Harley, nuzzling his face. Crane and Tetch watched her sickening displays of over-affection for a moment, then stormed off to join the other inmates of Arkham Asylum at the far side of the recreational room. These currently consisted of Poison Ivy, Two-Face, and Edward Nygma, who were playing a game of Clue. Or at least, that was the idea, but within a few turns, Nygma was able to reveal who had committed the crime, where, with what weapon, and even a motivation for the murder.

"It's not a good idea to show off, Nygma," growled Two-Face, throwing down his cards and glaring at him. "Bad things happen to people who pretend they're better than everyone else."

"If that were true, Harvey, Batman would be dead a million times over," retorted Nygma. "Anyway, there's no 'pretending' about it. There is no harm in the intellectually superior amongst us asserting their dominance. The rest of the sub-intellectuals should know their place, and follow in line."

"I'm not sure I like the term sub-intellectuals," said Ivy. "You may have a very mathematical mind, Eddie, but that doesn't make you necessarily smarter than anyone else, does it?"

"Well, who's won the past eight games, Pam?" asked Nygma, grinning. "If you view life as a game, as a riddle to be solved, of course the most intelligent are going to succeed in life."

"So where's your success, Nygma?" asked Two-Face. "You're locked up in here, same as the rest of us."

"I can escape whenever I choose," retorted Nygma. "I am only here as long as it amuses me to be so."

"And as long as Batman keeps putting you back in here," retorted Two-Face, grinning. "Must be hard for the intellectually superior to be constantly foiled by a man who dresses up as a flying rodent every night."

"Will you idiots shut up about the Bat?" shouted Joker, whirling around. "We're trying to watch TV!"

"You tell 'em, puddin'," said Harley, sighing dreamily and cuddling against him. "My big, strong, forceful lover!"

"When it comes right down to it, Nygma, I bet you ain't really that smart," continued Two-Face. "I bet you ain't really any smarter than Harley."

"Than…Harley?" stammered Nygma, offended. They all glanced over at the sofa, where Harley was gazing intently at the people on the screen.

"Aw, don't talk like that, Jimmy!" she cried suddenly at the TV. "You love her really! Don't let her slip through your fingers like that!"

"Hey, if he's stupid enough to let her go, she don't deserve to be stuck with him!" retorted Joker. "She can do so much better."

"But she loves him, puddin'," said Harley. "She loves him, and he loves her, even though he won't admit it! Aw, c'mon, Jimmy, just say it! She'll stay with you if you say it!"

"He ain't gonna say it, he's a moron!" shouted Joker. "Just beat it, Jimmy, and let Hailey go with a guy who'll really appreciate her!"

"I would be hurt by the accusation, Harvey, if it didn't come from a man who is clearly intellectually inferior himself," snapped Nygma.

"You're gonna let it bother you, though," said Two-Face with a grin. "That's the thing about intellectually superior people – much as they hate to admit it, they need the intellectually inferior to feel superior to. They need people to show off to, to prove they're smarter than them. And if they lose their respect, they'll spend the rest of their clever little lives trying to win it back. Maybe Pammie's right – it don't seem that smart to me."

"No, Hailey, stay with him!" shrieked Harley suddenly. "What are you doing?! Are you crazy?!"

"Nah, she's finally come to her senses," retorted Joker. "Good for you, kid. Tell him he's trash!"

"No, no, no, you love him!" shouted Harley. "Dammit, don't say that! You love him!"

They both gasped simultaneously. "Jesus Christ, she better leave him after that!" gasped Joker. "What kinda heartless bastard slaps a dame like that?! C'mon, you dumb blonde, get some self-respect back! Punch him back and leave him!"

"But she loves him, puddin'!" cried Harley, tears in her eyes.

"He hit her!" he snapped. "No gal should stay with a guy after he hits her!"

"But puddin', true love…"

"It ain't true love if he can treat her like crap!" interrupted Joker. "C'mon, Hailey, do the right thing! Atta girl!"

"No, Hailey, go back!" shouted Harley, the tears streaming down her face. "Go back! What are you doing?! He's the best thing that's ever happened to you! Are you outta your mind?! No, go back!"

She threw herself at the TV, shaking it. "No, no, no, don't leave him! Go back! Go back, you dumb broad!"

Joker threw the remote at Harley and it hit her in the back of the head. "Come back to the couch, you worthless dame! If you break the TV we can't watch the end of the episode!"

"But puddin', she has to go back to him!" sobbed Harley. "She can't leave him! They love each other!"

"I said get back here!" he shouted, grabbing her arm and ripping her away from the TV. He held her down, clapping a hand over her mouth and gazing intently at the screen.

"Harvey, you can't be serious," said Nygma, scowling. "Accusing me of being intellectually inferior to that bimbo…"

"I'm serious about everyone shutting up!" shouted Joker, whirling around. "When the TV is talking, you don't! Get me?!"

"You gonna take that from an intellectually inferior speciman of humanity?" murmured Two-Face, grinning.

"What some people lack in intelligence, they make up for in insanity," retorted Nygma. "And the truly intelligent among us choose not to aggravate the insane. It's just common sense."

"I heard a rumor they're going to kill off Hailey's character, J," said Ivy, reaching for a book. "They say the actress is sick of her contract and wants to start a career in movies."

"Aw, c'mon, Pammie, that never works," retorted Joker. "When's the last time a soap star made a successful transition to movies? Clooney? I mean, people say I'm crazy, but the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

"What, you mean like you fighting Batman?" asked Ivy, grinning.

"My sanity is not in dispute, and neither is yours," retorted Joker. "We're in the madhouse together, Pammie. But she ain't. She wouldn't be stupid enough to…"

The female character on the TV was suddenly hit by a bus crossing the street. Harley shrieked, and Joker stared at the screen in astonishment. Then he laughed hysterically.

"It ain't funny, puddin'!" sobbed Harley, gazing at the TV aghast. "Oh God, what will Jimmy do?"

"The dumb bastard is gonna have to live the rest of his life with the knowledge that the last thing he did was hit her!" giggled Joker. "What a great joke on him!"

"No, no, she ain't dead!" gasped Harley as the scene switched to a hospital with Jimmy bending over the battered body of Hailey. "C'mon, Jimmy, tell her how you feel before it's too late!"

"Hailey, I…I…love…"

The doctor lay a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "She's gone."

"No!" shrieked Harley, throwing herself at the TV and sobbing. "No, no, no! She can't be dead! She can't! Oh, Mr. J! Mr. J, make it all better!" sobbed Harley, burying her face in his chest.

"But pooh, it is terribly funny!" chuckled Joker. "Why ruin a great gag?"

"It ain't a great gag!" cried Harley. "It's the saddest thing I ever saw! Oh, puddin'! Why must the course of true love never run smooth?"

"That Shakespeare, Harl?" asked Ivy, looking up from her book.

Harley shrugged. "I dunno. Think I read it somewhere once though."

"Of course it's Shakespeare!" snapped Nygma. "It's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, Act I, Scene 1, spoken by Lysander to Hermia!"

"Well, ain't you smart, college boy," said Joker, grinning. "Quite the dangerous intellect, ain't ya?"

Harley snorted. "He ain't nothing compared to you, puddin'. No one's smarter than you, my precious, adorable, sweet baby."

She kissed him tenderly, and Nygma stood up, furiously. "I am easily the intellectual superior of you both, and everyone else in this asylum and out of it! And I'll prove it!"

He stormed off. "That's right, Eddie, go make up some riddles!" called Joker after him, laughing. "Aw, he's a depressing case, really," he sighed. "Gets his kicks outsmarting people. A guy can never be truly happy if he spends his life constantly comparing himself to others. I mean, look at the Bat. There's a man who always has to prove he's better than everyone, and look how miserable he is. Can't just have a little fun and enjoy himself with a few laughs. I tell ya, Harl, it makes me sad sometimes."

He started laughing hysterically. "But most of the time it just amuses me!" he chuckled.

"That is funny, Mr. J," sighed Harley. "Unlike the ending of the soap," she murmured, tears coming to her eyes again. "You think we should write them a letter, puddin'? Y'know, asking them to change it or something?"

"We'll see what we can do, pooh," he said, patting her head. "You freaks can have the TV back now," he said, standing up and turning to Crane and Tetch. "Maybe there's still time for you to catch the bat sex. Do you suppose that's what Bats calls it? He's got the Batclaw, the Batrope, the Batmobile – I don't think it would be out of character," he chuckled.

"You're the only person who likes to speculate what the Bat does in his intimate moments," growled Crane, seizing the remote from him.

"And Selina," chimed in Ivy. "And me, occasionally, when there's nothing new and exciting on my radar. Bats is an old familiar favorite."

"You've done better than Batman," growled Two-Face.

Joker giggled. "I guess you'll only ever be half a man to her, huh, Harv?" he laughed. "Second to the Bat – that must be galling."

"You could always ask Harley how it feels," retorted Ivy.

"I ain't second to the Bat," snapped Harley.

"No, she ain't second," agreed Joker, grinning. Harley beamed and kissed him. Ivy shook her head.

"You're a real bastard, J," she sighed. "Sometimes I wish you would just die or disappear or something and leave us all in peace."

"Don't pretend you wouldn't miss me, Pammie," replied Joker, grinning. "You may say it's the Bat, but I think we all know you've got a little thing for me deep down inside."

"Oh yeah, J, you're right," retorted Ivy sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Because women aren't turned on by a lotta muscle and a deep sexy voice. They're attracted to skinny, pasty-faced clowns with high-pitched laughs. What lucky lady wouldn't want to wake up next to that?"

"Hey, if other dames are too stupid to see how attractive Mr. J is, that's their problem," snapped Harley. "He's just the greatest!" she sighed, adoringly.

"It seems to me that this lady doth protest too much, Pammie," said Joker with a smile. "That's Shakespeare too, y'know, and Nygma ain't even here to appreciate it. Think he's crying in his cell?" he chuckled.

"I think he's devising some form of complicated riddle for one or both of you to solve," replied Two-Face.

"Aw, he's a thoughtful guy," giggled Joker. "Shame we won't be around to hear it."

"You planning on busting out?" asked Two-Face.

"That would be telling, Harvey," replied Joker, grinning.

"Well, if you are planning on busting out, it'd be nice to have a little warning so the rest of us could join you," retorted Two-Face.

"And what makes you think I'd want you losers slowing me down?" asked Joker. "It's bad enough I'm stuck with Harley. Besides, the Arkham doctors would be so bored without anyone to analyze. Better that the rest of you stay here for the time being, doncha think?"

"Aw, puddin's such a thoughtful guy," sighed Harley, dreamily.

"Anyway, if I don't see you freaks again, I'll just say sayonara suckers right now," chuckled Joker. "Having to hang out with you losers always makes the taste of freedom that much sweeter. Have fun wasting your lives in the nuthouse!"

He cackled as he and Harley left the room with the rest of the inmates glaring after them. "When are we escaping, puddin'?" murmured Harley, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Tomorrow morning, pooh, I'll come get you," he said, kissing her cheek. "Be awake by eight – we may have to leave in a hurry."

"Ok, puddin'," sighed Harley. "Maybe we could enjoy one last playtime before we bust out? Maybe in the electrotherapy room?" she murmured.

He chuckled, patting her head. "Trust me, baby, I'll be more in the mood once we're free. Tomorrow after we break out, and I've beaten a few guards' skulls in, I promise."

"Ok," sighed Harley in resignation. "Night, puddin'. See you tomorrow," she whispered, kissing him tenderly.

She returned to her cell, humming happily to herself. Nice as it was to see everyone at Arkham, she preferred it when it was just her and Mr. J. And neither her nor Joker did well being cooped up – they were kindred spirits who needed space and time to be alone. To be alone with each other, naturally – Harley didn't like being by herself and neither, she knew, did Joker. They never got tired of each other's company – at least, she never got tired of his, and she assumed the same was true for him. Heck, why would anyone ever want to be without their soulmate when they found them? Love like theirs was such a rare and wonderful thing, and Harley could never get enough of it. Nor, she assured herself, could anyone in their right mind.

She kissed the picture of Joker by her bedside. "Night, puddin'," she whispered again, shutting her eyes and falling asleep with a smile on her face.


	2. Chapter 2

Harley was up and dressed and ready to go well before eight o'clock. Eight came and went, but there was no sign of Joker. Harley sat on the edge of her bed, waiting for him. Eight fifteen came. Then eight thirty. Then eight forty-five. Then nine, and still no sign of Joker. And now Harley was worried. Mr. J was a pretty punctual guy – he would never be an hour late for his own escape attempt. At least not without telling her.

A guard was passing and she went over to the bars. "Hey, have you seen Mr. J this morning?" she asked.

"Nobody here has seen the Joker this morning, Harley," replied the guard. "He escaped from Arkham late last night."

"What?" asked Harley, puzzled. "But that ain't right. He said we'd escape together this morning. He wouldn't go without me."

The guard looked at her but said nothing, continuing his rounds. Harley was confused, but more concerned than confused. The Joker was a random, spontaneous, and unpredictable man, but usually he did things because they were funny. And Harley just couldn't see the joke in escaping in the middle of the night without her. It would hurt her, and Mr. J often thought hurting her was funny, but he wasn't around to see her being hurt, so what was the point? Mr. J usually had some reason, however nonsensical it seemed to others, for changing his plans. To just go off the radar like this wasn't like him, and it worried her.

She went over to the wall her cell shared with Ivy's and rapped on the stone several times. "Red? You awake?"

"I am now," retorted Ivy, yawning. "What is it?"

"Mr. J busted out during the night. Without me."

"Aw, geez, Harley," sighed Ivy, rolling her eyes. "Please try to hold it together this time – I really don't wanna deal with you breaking down when I've just woken up. Everyone knows he's a jerk except you. Can this please be the final straw? How many times will it take him abandoning you for you to realize you're worth more?"

"He didn't abandon me," snapped Harley, indignantly. "He wouldn't do that."

"He has done it, about a million times," replied Ivy.

"Not like this," retorted Harley. "We made plans to escape together. There's no reason he'd change them."

"You're talking about reason in regards to the Joker?" said Ivy.

"Look, I know him, Red, and I know this ain't like him," replied Harley. "Something just don't feel right about it. How do they know Mr. J escaped? How do they know he wasn't kidnapped or something?"

"Why would anyone want to kidnap J?" asked Ivy.

"Why would he wanna bust out without me?" demanded Harley. "None of it makes sense, Red."

"Which again, some of us don't find surprising when dealing with the Joker," sighed Ivy. "But you know best, Harley. What are you going to do?"

"Investigate," replied Harley, reaching up and pulling out a hairpin, which she twisted into the lock of her cell. There was a click and she pushed open the door. "Wanna help, Red?"

Ivy shrugged. "It's better than being cooped up in here, I guess."

Harley picked the lock on her door, then crept down the hall with Ivy behind her. "I feel a little like Nancy Drew, Red," Harley said, smiling. "You ever read Nancy Drew?"

"Yeah, a couple of 'em," replied Ivy.

"When I was a kid, I wanted to be a detective just like her," said Harley. "That was before I realized how much fun crime could be, of course. Plus she was always a little too goody-goody for my taste. All sugar and spice and no personality. It's kinda a bad role model for girls, when you think about it…"

They rounded a corner and came face-to-face with an Arkham guard. Quick as a flash, Harley kneed him in the groin, then slammed her head into his, knocking him unconscious.

"Don't think Nancy Drew ever did that," commented Ivy.

"Like I said, crap role model," retorted Harley, making sure the coast was clear. "C'mon."

The lock was forced on Joker's cell from the inside, and Harley examined it closely. "This ain't Mr. J's style," she murmured. "Quiet, discreet little break-out, no dead guards, no mayhem, no fun…nah, something's definitely fishy, Red."

"So maybe he decided to take a day off," said Ivy, shrugging. "Tone it down for once."

"Mr. J don't ever tone things down," snapped Harley. She examined the rest of the cell, then let out a shriek. "Aw, Jesus Christ, Red, something terrible has happened to him!"

"How do you know?" asked Ivy, rushing over.

Harley pointed underneath the bed, where a wooden cane lay on the ground. "I gave that to him for our last anniversary," she murmured. "There's no way he'd leave it."

Ivy picked it up – the head of the cane was inscribed with the words _Happy Anniversary from your adoring Harley girl. Love you forever, puddin'._

To Ivy, this wasn't proof of anything. She couldn't imagine Joker particularly treasuring an object that identified him as puddin' – he had probably shoved it under the bed the moment Harley had given it to him and forgotten about it. But Harley seemed convinced, and at the moment Ivy was more preoccupied with whether she was going to have a nervous breakdown or not. She certainly looked dangerously unhinged, more so than usual.

Her shriek had alerted the guards, who came running. They were about to enter the cell when Harley held up her hands. "Nobody move!" she shouted. "This is a crime scene, and I'm checking it for evidence, and the last thing I need is you bozos trampling all over it! You wait outside until I'm done or it won't be funny, get me?!"

Ivy knew it was an empty threat, but Harley looked so deadly serious that the guards obeyed her. Harley carefully checked every inch of the room and then nodded and returned to her cell without a struggle, lost in thought and worry.

"The question is, Red," she said at last. "Is who here would bear a grudge against Mr. J?"

Ivy looked at her. "You're seriously asking that question?"

"Of course. I wouldn't joke about this, especially when Mr. J ain't here to enjoy it."

"Everyone bears him a grudge, Harley," retorted Ivy. "I hate his guts. If I had to pick just one person in the world to be able to torture to death, I'd have real difficulty choosing between him and the Bat. And so would everyone in here."

Harley stared at her. "But…Red...you mean they really don't like him? I thought they were joking! I thought it was all in good fun, just a little friendly banter, y'know, the way guys do. How could anyone really not like puddin'?"

"He's a vile, abusive, disgusting creep," retorted Ivy. "The mystery is why you seem to love him."

Tears came to Harley's eyes. "He could be in real danger, Red!" she sobbed. "He could be hurt, he could die, and then you'll regret saying those words! Just like Jimmy did! First my soap upsets me and now Mr. J disappears on me! I dunno how things could get any worse!"

And as Harley continued to sob loudly and let out high-pitched shrieks, Ivy was forced to agree with her.


	3. Chapter 3

At lunch, Harley strode purposefully into the cafeteria. "Listen up, guys!" she shouted over the sea of voices. "I've got some really distressing news!"

The talking died down immediately as everyone turned to look at Harley. She took a deep breath. "I don't wanna alarm anyone," she murmured, "But Mr. J is missing."

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed what she said. Then the talking immediately resumed as if nothing had happened. "What's the matter with you jerks?!" cried Harley, stamping her foot. "Don't you care?!"

"Why would anyone care that the clown is gone?" retorted Two-Face. "Anyway, I heard he busted out, just like he said he was going to yesterday. It ain't exactly surprising."

"But he didn't take me, Harvey," snapped Harley.

"I repeat, it ain't exactly surprising," said Two-Face.

"You don't know him, Harvey, but I do, and I'm telling you something's wrong," said Harley, firmly. "Just listen to me, would ya?"

"Look, Harley, it's sweet that you have faith in him and all. Sweet and incredibly stupid. Try getting a grip on reality before you go trying to worry the rest of us."

Harley glared at him as he walked away. "Johnny, you believe me, doncha?" she asked Crane.

"That the clown is gone? Yes," retorted Crane. "And good riddance to bad rubbish, I must say."

"How can you say that, Johnny?" murmured Harley, tears in her eyes. "How can you talk about the man I love like that?"

"Everyone knows you deserve better than that selfish, evil clown, Harley," retorted Crane. "Much as I hate seeing you in pain, I'm not surprised that the monster has inflicted it on you by abandoning you once again. This would be, what, the thousandth time?"

"You mustn't exaggerate, Jonathan, it's not the thousandth time," spoke up Tetch.

"Aw, thanks, Jervis, it's real nice of you to…" began Harley.

"It's precisely the 129th time that we've heard about," continued Tetch. "Of course there may have been other times that Harley hasn't related to us, but I hardly think it will equal one thousand."

"This time is different!" shouted Harley. "Why don't anybody believe me?! Why does everyone think I'm stupid?! It's cause I'm blonde, isn't it?"

"Harley, nobody here is shallow enough to judge someone by the color of their hair," retorted Ivy. "Only by their actions. If your actions are stupid, people are forced to conclude that the person who commits the actions is stupid. And in your case, continuing to give your faith and trust and love to a man who has proved himself unworthy of them more times than I can count is a really stupid thing to keep doing."

Harley glared at her. "Where's Eddie Nygma?" she snapped suddenly.

"Haven't seen him today," replied Tetch. "Which is unusual. He usually has a few riddles prepared before breakfast, and he usually annoys us all with them at lunch."

"Eddie Nygma and Mr. J both missing," muttered Harley. "And nobody finds that a little suspicious?"

"Are you implying J escaped with Eddie instead of you?" laughed Two-Face. "I guess he finally figured if he can't have the Bat, he'll have to settle for another costumed freak!"

His laughter was abruptly cut off as Harley punched him in the face. She kept pummeling him mercilessly until the guards dragged her off. "This ain't a good time for jokes, Harvey!" she shrieked. "Mr. J is in danger! Eddie Nygma's kidnapped him, I know it! Let go of me, you jerks! I gotta save Mr. J!"

She struggled to get free as the guards dragged her off. To her surprise, they didn't return her to her cell, but instead took her to the warden's office.

"Please take a seat, Harley," said the warden, rising as the guards shoved Harley inside.

"You need to tell the boys to handle Mr. J's merchandise with a little more care," snapped Harley as the guards left, shutting the door behind them.

"They have been authorized to use whatever force is necessary to calm our patients when they become unruly," retorted the warden.

"And why shouldn't I be unruly?" demanded Harley. "Mr. J's been kidnapped!"

"Harley, the Joker escaped late last night of his own volition," said the wardern, turning to the television screens and flicking the remote. "We have it on CCTV if you'd like to have a look at it yourself. You are in this facility to be cured of your delusions, after all, whatever those may be."

Harley watched as the screens played a grainy image of a man with green hair and wearing a purple suit fiddling with the lock on the Joker's cell, and then leaving the room. The camera was at an angle so that the viewer could only see the back of the figure, and Harley was anything but convinced by it.

"How do you know that's Mr. J if you can't see his face?" she demanded.

"Are you aware of anyone else with green hair and a purple suit who may happened to have been secured in Joker's cell?" asked the warden.

"Purple suits ain't that hard to come by, and it could be a wig," retorted Harley.

"But isn't it far more likely to be him?" pressed the warden.

"Maybe, but it ain't him," snapped Harley. "I know Mr. J. He'd always put on a show for the camera. He'd made a face at it or something at least. I don't know how or why Eddie did it, but he's set this up. He's kidnapped Mr. J, and I have to get him back."

The warden looked at her for a moment, and then picked up her file which lay on his desk. "Dr. Leland has identified your so-called love for the Joker as the focal point of your madness. This apparent love manifests itself in all kinds of delusions and rationalizations for his cruel and apathetic behavior towards you. It's an incredibly harmful and damaging state of mind, but the condition is not incurable so long as you are willing to recognize and accept the truth that your love, as you call it, is a complete fabrication, a…."

_Blah, blah, blah_ thought Harley, looking around the office as the warden continued to talk. She looked up, and suddenly noticed a small bit of writing lightly scratched onto the ceiling. It read: _Quinn – Between France and England - 140. _

Harley stared at it, puzzled. What on earth did that mean? Her name and a couple countries, and a random number? There was no connection. It didn't make any sense. She shut her eyes, trying to remember her European geography. There wasn't anything between France and England as far as she knew except a lotta water. The English Channel. Channel. Channel 140.

She opened her eyes suddenly and fell off her chair. "Are you all right?" asked the warden, rushing over.

"Yeah, I think so," murmured Harley, putting a hand to her head. "Just felt really dizzy all of the sudden."

"I'll get the nurse," said the warden, leaving the room.

The moment he was gone, Harley seized the remote and switched the security cameras to channel 140. She was greeted with the Riddler's smiling face.

"Hello, Harley. So you were smart enough to figure it out after all. I didn't really think you would, but I did hope it would be the case, because I didn't want to go through all that hard work for nothing. You've already proven yourself smarter than the other inmates by realizing that the Joker's apparent escape was just a ruse designed by me. Though I suspect that conclusion has more to do with blind faith than any deductive reasoning on your part."

"Where is he, Eddie?" demanded Harley. "He'd better not be hurt!"

"He's perfectly safe, and being held in a secret location," replied Nygma. "In order to find him, I've devised a series of challenges for you…"

"Challenges?" interrupted Harley, suddenly terrified. "Oh Jesus, you don't mean like in that movie where the key is planted behind my eye and I have to remove it with a scalpel in less than a minute or I'll die?"

"Um…no," said Nygma.

"Oh, thank God!" breathed Harley, relieved. "Anyway, Mr. J said that ruined the realism of the movie – said it wasn't possible. We even tested it on a couple people, and it ain't, just so you know. They die from the shock before they can even think of using the key."

"Well, that's…useful to know," replied Nygma, slowly. "But no, mine are not physical challenges testing strength and stamina. Those attributes are found even in the most brutish animals. No, what seperates man from beast is the brain, and a superior intellect is the sign of a superior being. You do not have a superior intellect, Harley, and I'm going to prove it to the world."

"Red says I've already proved it to the world," retorted Harley. "By always going back to Mr. J."

Nygma waved his hand. "I don't believe a natural emotional response is a true test of intellectual inferiority. Although the truly great among us have overcome such weak and infantile feelings. No, the brain in its purest form of reasoning can only be judged without interference from the emotions, which is why I have contrived a complex series of clues for you to solve before you can reach the Joker. Puzzles which will test merely your ability to think and reason. Riddles which you will never be able to solve, and which will prove me your intellectual superior."

"Eddie, you ever think about, I dunno, finding a hobby?" asked Harley. "Or a girlfriend? I worry about you, I really do, and there are other, better ways to assert yourself. You could take up macramé, I hear that's nice."

"You have twenty-four hours in which to solve my challenges, or the Joker will die," continued Nygma, ignoring her. "So I would listen very carefully if I were you. Here's your first riddle: This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks. Lacks arms, has hands; lacks a head but has a face. What is it?"

"Oh crap, I dunno!" cried Harley. "A dog? A cat? A tree? A flower? Love? Hope? The universe? America? Oooh, I know, the Constitution!"

"No, Harley, none of those," replied Nygma. "I'll give you about an hour to think it over and contact you…"

"Oh no, you don't!" snapped Harley. "You're gonna sit here and listen to my answers! I may get lucky and stumble across it! Now let's see…" She began glancing around the room again. "Paper. Files. A table. A chair. Screens. A remote control. TV."

"Harley…"

"Shut up and listen to my guesses!" retorted Harley. "You wanted to play this game, Eddie, so you deal with how I play it!"

"I have better things to do with my time…"

"You clearly don't," interrupted Harley. "So sit down. We may be here awhile."

She locked the door to the warden's office and sat back down. "A desk. A letterhead. A notebook. A lamp."

"Harley, unlock this door!" shouted the warden, banging on it.

"Not until I solve this riddle!" Harley yelled back. "A door. A fist. A man…"

After ten minutes of constant random guessing, Edward Nygma was beginning to regret asking Harley the riddle. "No, Harley," he murmured, rubbing his temples. "No, just stop talking and think about it for a second…"

"A book. A pencil. A pen."

"No, Harley…"

"A map. A clock."

"No…wait, what was that?"

"A map?"

"No, the other one."

"A clock."

"Yes, that's it," sighed Nygma. "Well done, Harley. Real good use of deductive reasoning there."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" demanded Harley.

"For this one," agreed Nygma. "It won't work for the next. Here it is: What is greater than God, more evil than the Devil, the poor have it, the rich don't need it, and if you eat it, you'll die?"

"Greater than God...is it Mr. J?"

"No, Harley, it's not," snapped Nygma. "And this time I really am going. I'll contact you in six hours. That's a quarter of your time, which should be plenty. At least, it would be plenty for me, but then I accept that you aren't anywhere near my intellectual equal. Bye for now."

The screen went dead just as the warden burst into the room with several guards who surrounded Harley. "Anybody any good with riddles?" she asked as they dragged her back to her cell. "I could kinda use a hand with this one."

They ignored her and shoved her back inside, locking the door behind her. "Red? You good with riddles?" asked Harley, banging on the wall.

"Not really," replied Ivy. "Why?"

"Cause Eddie's asked me one, and I've got six hours to find the answer or he'll kill Mr. J!"

"Gee, Harley, that's rough," replied Ivy, smiling to herself. "But a girl can dream. Good luck with it."

Harley sighed and sat down in a corner of her cell, trying to think. "C'mon, Harl, you ain't stupid," she muttered. "You gotta prove to him, and you gotta prove to everyone, you ain't stupid. Greater than God…I still think the answer's Mr. J."


	4. Chapter 4

"Greater than God," repeated Harley, later that night. She had been staring at the riddle she had carved into the wall of her cell for the past five hours, but was still no closer to finding the answer. "C'mon, Harley, Mr. J is counting on you," she murmured, running her hand down the writing. "You can't let him down. But it's an impossible riddle!" she shouted suddenly, punching the wall. She hissed in pain, rubbing her fist tenderly. "There ain't nothing greater than God! And there ain't nothing more evil than the Devil, unless it's this goddamn riddle!"

She caught her breath suddenly. "Maybe it's Batman!" she cried. "He's more evil than the Devil! And if you ate him, you'd probably die, because that armor would probably choke anyone! The rich don't need him, because they ain't committing crimes, and the poor have him always getting in their way of becoming rich! And he probably thinks he's greater than God, the conceited bastard! Batman! It's Batman!"

She ran to her door and tried to pull it open. "Oh that's right, they've locked me up again," she muttered, annoyed. "Why does nobody seem to appreciate the seriousness of the situation except me? Red! Hey, Red!" she called, pounding on her wall again.

"What is it, Harley?" demanded Ivy. "It's after midnight and some of us are trying to sleep!"

"I need to get outta here and into the warden's office ASAP. Think you could help me out?"

"Is this about Joker's supposed kidnapping again?" yawned Ivy.

"He's in real danger, Red," whined Harley. "Please, Red, for me? Please, please, please, please, please, please, please…"

"All right!" snapped Ivy. "But you owe me!"

A few vines slid over to the bars of Harley's cell and gently bent them back, making a wide enough gap for Harley to squeeze through. "Thanks, Red, you're the greatest!" she whispered, creeping off down the hall.

The warden's office was dark, but unlocked, and Harley crept inside, picking up the remote and flicking over to channel 140. "Greetings, Harley," said Nygma, smugly. "Did you figure out the answer to my riddle?"

"Yeah, I did, actually," retorted Harley. "It's Batman."

"No, it isn't," replied Nygma.

"Yeah, it is!" snapped back Harley. "Thinks he's greater than God, actually more evil than the Devil, rich don't need him, poor are stuck with him, and it would kill you to eat him! It's Batman! He fits all the clues!"

"Harley, it's not Batman," said Nygma. "I invented the riddle, and I'm telling you he's not the answer."

"But it is a correct answer!" cried Harley. "It works! You gotta give it to me if it works!"

"It's not the answer!" repeated Nygma. "There is only one correct answer, and that's not it!"

"See, this is your problem, Eddie!" retorted Harley. "This is why you ain't really that smart! You think everything's gotta have just one answer, but life don't work like that! Well, unless the question is who is my soulmate. The one true answer is of course Mr. J."

"Who will be dead in a matter of hours if you don't tell me the one correct answer to my riddles!" snapped Nygma.

"But there ain't any other answer, Eddie!" shouted Harley. "Nothing's greater than God!"

"What did you say?" demanded Nygma.

"I said nothing's greater than God!" repeated Harley. "And nothing's more evil than the Devil! And nothing…"

She paused. "That's the answer, isn't it?" she murmured. "Nothing."

"Yes, it is," snapped Nygma. "Well done."

"That's a bit of a trick question, Eddie," snorted Harley. "I don't like trick questions. How can nothing be the answer to a riddle?"

"Nothing is still something," retorted Nygma.

"No, it ain't," said Harley. "Nothing is nothing."

"I'm not arguing with you anymore, Harley," sighed Nygma. "Besides the fact that it feels like I'm pounding my head against a very thick brick wall, I don't have the time, and neither do you. You have approximately eighteen hours to solve my final riddle, and I think you'll need every second of them. Here it is: I hold what man treasures most. The root of all evil is at my core, yet I help people to live. I am safe and secure and also dangerously unstable. What am I?"

"Hell, Eddie, I dunno!" shouted Harley. "Ain't you sick of this stupid game yet? C'mon, I got two of them, that's enough, ain't it? That's enough to prove I ain't stupid?"

"There was never any question of your stupidity!" snapped Nygma. "It just amuses me to watch the intellectually inferior struggle futilely to solve my riddles!"

"But I got two of your riddles, so maybe I ain't that intellectually inferior after all!" retorted Harley.

"Well, you won't get this one!" shouted Nygma. "You have eighteen hours! Goodbye, Harley!"

"That dumb jerk," muttered Harley as the screen turned off. "When I find him, I'm gonna take that damn bowler hat of his and shove it down his stupid throat! That's if Mr. J don't try to disembowel him first! And I got a headache from all these stupid puzzles!"

She sank down in the warden's chair, trying to think through her headache. She picked up the remote and changed the channel over to the news, where Jack Ryder was reporting in front of a fiery building.

"…no clues as to the perpetrator. We have been assured, however, that Batman is on the case, and there is no one better than the World's Greatest Detective at solving the otherwise incomprehensible riddles left by the criminally insane. I'm Jack Ryder…"

Harley flicked off the TV abruptly, her eyes shining. "That's it," she whispered. "That's it! Batsy will know the answer!"

She seized the telephone and dialled 911. "Hello? This is the police."

"Hi, it's Harley Quinn here. Can you just let Bats know that I was the one who started that fire in the building so he can come interrogate me?"

"Do you mean the fire on 7th Avenue or the fire on 29th Street?"

"Aw, gee, I dunno. Both, I guess. Yeah, why not? I started both of them."

"You got a motive?"

"I'll tell the motive to Batsy!" snapped Harley. "Just send him over to Arkham!"

"How did you start the fire if you were locked up in Arkham?"

"Look, lamebrain, enough with the questions! Who do you think you are, the World's Greatest Detective?! Well, I got news for you, buddy, you ain't Bats, and only he's worthy of knowing how I did it! So send him over now or I'll torch another building! And it'll be a hospital this time or something!"

"It was a hospital that was set on fire on 29th Street."

"Yeah? Well…it'll be another one. Or it'll be an orphanage. Sure, that'll work. Next time it'll be an orphanage."

"It was an orphanage on 7th."

"Well, I'm repeating my pattern!" shouted Harley. "Criminals tend to do that, y'know! It's one of the defining characteristics of psychopaths! Don't mess with me, pal, I used to be a psychiatrist, and I could analyze the crap outta you! You're a jumped up little desk monkey who thinks he deserves better than working the phone lines! But you better learn to shut your mouth before it gets you into trouble someday! What's your name?"

"Jimmy."

"It would be," growled Harley. "You're just as dumb as Jimmy is, and I hope the girl you love gets hit by a bus just like his did! Now send the Bat here pronto!"

She slammed the phone down. "The attitude of some of these coppers today, I tell ya," she muttered, leaving the office and returning to her cell. "No respect for the criminal element anymore. Mr. J really needs to blow a few more of them to smithereens – that'd teach 'em some manners."


	5. Chapter 5

She waited anxiously in her cell until a guard appeared and unlocked her door, saying, "You're coming with me to the interview room, Harley. Batman would like to ask you a few questions."

"At last!" snapped Harley. "He sure takes his sweet time, don't he? I only got about sixteen hours left, y'know. What do you think his excuse is? Traffic? Thought his car could like fly or something. Don't your car fly, Bats?" she asked as she entered the interview room where Batman was already seated.

"One of the models does," agreed Batman. "But not the one I took tonight."

"If I had a flying car, I'd never drive any other model," retorted Harley as the guard left them and she sat down across from him. "You got no style sometimes, Bats."

"What's this all about, Harley?" asked Batman. "I know you didn't really start those fires tonight, and I need to catch whoever did. So just tell me what's going on so I can be on my way."

"Ok, Bats, I'll shoot straight with ya," replied Harley, leaning forward. "The truth is, Mr. J's been kidnapped by Eddie Nygma, and he's making me solve a bunch of riddles or he's gonna kill him in sixteen hours! I got two of 'em, but I'm stuck on this one, and if anyone can solve it, you can. So I lied about starting those fires, but you can see why, can't you? It really is an emergency."

"Do you know where Nygma is keeping Joker?" asked Batman.

"No. He won't tell me."

"He may have – he sometimes does with his riddles. Repeat it to me just as he told it to you."

Harley did. Batman thought for a moment and then stood up. "Come with me," he said.

"Batman, where are you taking this patient?" asked the warden as Batman passed his office with Harley following behind him.

"I'll bring her back in about an hour," retorted Batman.

"I promise I'll be good and come right back," said Harley. "We just gotta go rescue Mr. J from Eddie Nygma. Shouldn't take long."

"All inmates must be signed out of the facility with the appropriate paperwork," retorted the warden. "You can't just leave with them."

"We ain't got time for paperwork – Eddie's gonna kill Mr. J!" snapped Harley.

"Procedure must be followed at all times without exception," retorted the warden. "I'm sorry, Batman, but rules are rules, and they apply to everyone."

Batman stared back at him, but nodded slowly, following him inside the office. Harley made to follow them, but then dashed off down the corridor, heading for Joker's cell. She grabbed the cane from underneath his bed, and then rushed back to the office.

"Sign here, here, and here," said the warden, bending over the desk next to Batman, with his back to Harley. She snuck up behind the warden and struck him a hard blow across the back of the head.

"Sorry, Bats, I know you're uncomfortable with random violence towards non-criminals," said Harley as the warden fell to the ground. "But I hate bureaucrats."

"At least we have one thing in common," replied Batman, nodding and standing up. "Let's go."

"So what is the answer to the riddle?" asked Harley as they drove.

"A bank," retorted Batman. "Money is the root of all evil, and banks contain money. They also give out loans and mortgages, helping people to live. And they're places of security, but also have a habit of being robbed or, in more recent cases, collapsing because of irresponsible lending."

"Ah. Clever," said Harley. "So we'll find Mr. J in a bank?"

Batman nodded. "The old bank on 44th Street is scheduled for demolition. Its vaults are the perfect place to keep someone prisoner – they won't be able to make any sound, and there's no chance of anyone stumbling across them."

"Clever," repeated Harley. "Evil, but clever. Eddie Nygma is pretty smart, I'll give him that. But not as smart as he thinks."

"No one is as smart as Edward Nygma believes himself to be," replied Batman.

"Definitely a smartass, though," said Harley. "You gonna beat the crap outta him, Bats?"

"If he doesn't surrender quietly, yes," replied Batman. "And same goes for you and the Joker."

Harley grinned. "You know us, Bats. We'll come as quietly as a mouse."

"Save the jokes for when the Joker is here," retorted Batman.

Harley shrugged. "Well, whatever happens, it's real nice of you to help me out in a tight spot, Bats. I won't forget it. You let me know if I can ever return the favor."

"You already did," replied Batman. "I, of course, could never publicly condone the unprovoked attack on a public official. But just between you and me, I certainly didn't object to it too much. I wouldn't go so far to say I approved, but there was a certain satisfaction in seeing him knocked to the ground."

Harley grinned. "Gee, Bats, you really are more like Mr. J than you realize," she said. "He's always said you were. Anytime you wanna lose your mind and join the rest of us in the madhouse, you'd be more than welcome. Red would definitely love it – she's got the hots for you, did you know that?"

"No. But thanks for the offer - I'll bear it in mind," replied Batman, dryly.

They pulled up in front of the deserted bank and Batman beckoned Harley. "Stay close to me," he murmured. "We don't know if the Riddler is inside."

"I ain't afraid of that dumb jerk," snapped Harley.

"And I don't want to alert him to our presence if he has Joker hostage," retorted Batman. "He could kill him if he hears us. So just shut up and stay behind me."

Harley instantly obeyed and stayed close behind Batman as he entered the building and went down into the vaults. Batman pushed open the door with a creak, and was immediately struck on the head and fell to the ground.

"Puddin', no, it's Bats!" shrieked Harley as Batman kept being clubbed repeatedly by the Joker.

"Bats?" repeated Joker, immediately dropping the table leg and kneeling down. "Gee, I'm sorry, Bats, I thought you were Eddie! Bats, can you hear me? Bats? Yoo-hoo, Bats!" he called, slapping him gently in the face. "Aw, I think he's out cold, pooh," said Joker, straightening up. "I'll apologize when he wakes up. Why did you bring the flying rodent anyway?"

"He helped me find you," replied Harley. "Eddie Nygma gave me a riddle I didn't know the answer to, so Bats helped me figure it out. You really should have thanked him, puddin', not beaten him unconscious."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" snapped Joker. "If people are going to go skulking around in the shadows, they've got no one to blame but themselves if they get hurt!"

"Too true, Mr. J," sighed Harley. "And to think, that coulda been me if he hadn't gone first." She looked at Batman and then giggled. "Sucker!"

She leapt into Joker's arms. "I'm so glad you ain't hurt, puddin'! I was so worried!"

Joker snorted. "You think I couldn't handle myself against Eddie Nygma? I'm a little insulted, Harley, I'm not gonna lie."

"The way he was talking, puddin', it was like he could kill you any time…"

"Eddie's always been all talk and no action," interrupted Joker. "You know that, pooh. You should have refused to play his stupid riddle game – could have saved yourself a lotta effort."

"It was worth it for you, puddin'," sighed Harley, ruffling his hair and kissing him. "Brought you something – knew you wouldn't have left it behind voluntarily!"

She handed him his cane. "Oh…thanks, pumpkin pie," said Joker, slowly, taking it from her. "Of…course…I wouldn't have left that."

"How long do you think he'll be out?" asked Harley, looking down at Batman.

"I dunno. He took quite a beating. He won't be laughing when he wakes up, I can tell ya that. Not that he ever laughs," said Joker.

"He laughed at me once," replied Harley.

Joker looked at her, hurt. "He laughed at _you_?" he repeated.

"Yeah. When I told him I wanted to settle down with my loving sweetheart."

"Oh, he laughed_ at_ you. As in 'you're pathetic' kinda laugh rather than 'you're funny' kinda laugh. That's fine," replied Joker, smiling again.

They suddenly heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Joker nodded at Harley, who picked up the dropped table leg and waited on one side of the door while Joker waited on the other with his cane raised.

This time it was the Riddler who entered, and who was greeted by both Joker and Harley hitting him at the same time. They kept it up until Joker knocked the head off his cane on Nygma's face.

"Oh, what a shame, pooh!" he exclaimed. "Eddie's thick skull broke your anniversary present!"

"You jerk!" shrieked Harley, striking him repeatedly with her club. "Who's the intellectually inferior one now, huh?!"

They were both ripped off him suddenly by Batman, who handcuffed them and then bent down to help Nygma up. "You're still the intellectually inferior one!" hissed Nygma at Harley as Batman handcuffed him. "You cheated! Getting Bats to help you isn't fair!"

"It ain't cheating – it's thinking outside the box!" snapped Harley. "That's what the smartest kinda people do!"

"Children, play nice," said Joker, grinning. "As far as I'm concerned, you're both intellectually inferior individuals. But if I had to choose, I'd say you're even dumber than Harley, Eddie, and that is saying something."

"There. See?" said Harley, sticking her tongue out at Nygma.

"Let's go," said Batman, dragging them off.

"Hey, did you bring the flying car, Bats?" asked Joker, eyes alight.

"No," retorted Batman.

"Aw, Batsy, why not?" said Joker, his face falling.

"Because he ain't got no style, Mr. J, just like I told him," said Harley as he shoved them into the backseat. "Oh well. At least we're safe and together, huh, puddin'?" she sighed, leaning on his shoulder. "I guess all's well that ends well. Ain't that Shakespeare too, Eddie?"

Nygma growled but said nothing as Batman put him in the front seat and drove off.

Harley suddenly shrieked. "Oh no! But it ain't all well! What about Hailey?"

"Who's Hailey?" asked Batman, puzzled.

"Nobody, Bats," replied Joker, grinning. "A fictional character that Harley's grown a little too attached to in a soap opera. Nothing for you to worry about."

He patted Harley head and murmured in her ear, "Daddy will fix it, pooh bear, don't you worry. Just let the Bat take us back to Arkham so Daddy J can pick up a few things, and he'll go have a little talk with that silly little actress. It's the least I can do for my Harley girl after all the trouble she went through to rescue me, however futile the gesture was."

"Aw, Mr. J, you're the greatest!" sighed Harley, kissing him and snuggling into his chest.

"And it'll be a lotta fun for me too," continued Joker, grinning. "That actress was looking a little long in the tooth. Think she could probably use a facelift. Or maybe botox, anything to give her a nice, big smile!"

He giggled uncontrollably and Harley sighed adoringly. Mr. J would do just anything for her. He really was a sweet, cute, gorgeous angel.

"I'd rather be happy than smart, Eddie," said Harley, kissing Joker again. "But I guess I'm really lucky to be both."


	6. Chapter 6

"Ok, guys, everyone shut up!" shouted Harley, turning up the volume on the TV. "It's starting!"

The opening credits of the soap opera began playing, and when they were finished, the Joker appeared on screen. "Hello, folks, I'm the Joker!" he said, smiling and waving. "If you are, like me, one of the many people with exquisite taste who are fans of this usually excellent drama, you'll probably have been as disappointed as I was with the ending of last week's episode. The character of Hailey had so much potential that it seems a real shame to bump her off just because the selfish little actress wanted a better contract in movies. It's not really fair on the audience, is it? The dedicated, loyal viewers of this show have come to expect more, and I, for one, hate to disappoint an audience. Well, Uncle Joker has heard your pleas, and he's going to make it all better, so don't worry anymore. If you did catch last week's episode, please forget all about, and pretend this week's is what should have happened last week, kay? And, action!"

Joker moved out of the way to reveal the actors playing Jimmy and Hailey, looking utterly terrified. "Um…Hailey…before our wedding…I've got a terrible secret to tell you…" began Jimmy.

"No, no, no, emote!" interrupted Joker, appearing back on screen. "It's the day of your wedding! You've got a terrible secret! You're an actor – act the emotions you may be feeling! Excitement, apprehension, foreboding, go on!"

He stepped out of the way again. "I've got a terrible secret to tell you," said Jimmy, doing his best to keep calm and act through his part.

"What is it, Jimmy?" murmured Hailey.

"There, y'see, that's acting!" said Joker, grinning as he appeared on screen. "She looks really scared, just like you would if you had to hear a terrible secret from the man you were going to marry! You may yet have a career in films, sweetheart, assuming you don't blow it today by being blown away!" He chuckled. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm breaking the tension, continue," he said, stepping off camera again.

"I just thought you should know…I'm actually a…serial killer," said Jimmy.

"You're a what?" murmured Hailey.

"Y'see, she's still in character!" whispered Joker, popping his head into the shot. "The sheer terror in her eyes! Looks petrified, doesn't she? What a great little actress!"

"I'm a…serial killer," repeated Jimmy. "And you're going to be my latest victim. Don't try to scream. Um…Mr. Joker, sir, are you sure this is a prop knife?" asked the actor nervously, pulling out the weapon.

"Of course I'm sure! So stop breaking character, Jimmy, and just attack the dame!" snapped Joker.

The actor obeyed, rushing forward. He cut the actress across the arm and she screamed as real blood began gushing from the wound. She grabbed one of the microphone stands and struck the actor across the head with it, knocking him to the ground.

"Hmm…you weren't supposed to win that fight," said Joker, coming over to examine the unconscious actor. "In fact, you're not supposed to be alive right now. Oh well. Guess we'll just have to improvise the rest. You did improvisation in acting school, right?"

"Mr. Joker, please, I've been wounded…"

"Hey, the show must go on, kid," retorted Joker, grinning. "Doncha wanna show all those film producers watching right now that you're willing to suffer for your art? Now, I'll stand in for Jimmy. I know it's a suspension of disbelief, but that should be no problem for people who live in a city where a guy dresses up like a flying rodent every night and stops crime. So, I'm actually a serial killer, yada yada yada, attack the dame. I didn't bring my knife, so we'll just have to change it to a gun."

He grabbed the actress by the hair and held the gun against her temple. "I just want you to know, Hailey, that what we had was really special," he murmured. "And I'm letting you die by my hand because I really love you. See, some guys, they don't know lucky they have it, but not me. I appreciate my little Harley…um…Hailey, even though I gotta kill her. You understand, doncha, baby? Now say you love me too."

"I…love you…Jimmy," stammered the actress, shutting her eyes.

Joker pulled the trigger…and a bang flag popped out of the gun. His jaw tightened in fury. "Dammit, Harley, you useless waste of space!" he shouted, shoving the actress away from him and throwing his gun at the camera. "You gave me the wrong gun! I know you're watching this, and when I next see you, I'm gonna beat you into a bloody pulp, you worthless broad! It was gonna be a great ending too, a real tear-jerker, but you've ruined it all, you dumb blonde! I hope you're happy, because I sure as hell ain't! It's gonna take a big, murderous rampage to put the smile back on my face! Fortunately there's a whole studio full of people here for me to maim!" he chuckled, suddenly smiling again. "Anyway, hope you folks at home enjoyed this ending better – I know I did! Tune in next week, when the cast who manage to survive try to continue the story as best they can after this shocking revelation! And speaking of shocking, a guy can have hours of fun with a broken electrical cable, so I'm just gonna cut the power to the camera now and make one! That's all, folks!"

He laughed hysterically and then the camera went dead. "Aw, ain't Mr. J just the greatest!" sighed Harley, leaning back on the sofa contentedly. "What a swell guy, to redo that whole ending just for me!"

"And yet he has actually escaped without you this time," said Ivy, rolling her eyes. "He's abandoned you here again, and you're ok with that?"

"Sure, Red," replied Harley, shrugging. "We didn't make plans to escape together this time – he wanted the soap ending to be a surprise for me, and it was, a real big one too. Didn't see that whole Jimmy as a serial killer thing coming. But Mr. J will be back to bust me out soon, you'll see."

"I imagine he will be back soon – the Bat will have seen that and is probably on his way to the studio now to drag him back here," replied Ivy.

Harley shrugged again. "Either way, we'll be together, and that's all that matters. I'm a lucky girl, Red, a real lucky girl."

"Uh huh," said Ivy, flipping the page in her magazine. "Whatever you say, Harley."

"I know you think I'm stupid, Red," snapped Harley. "But I ain't stupid. I proved that by outsmarting Eddie. None of the rest of you have ever done that."

"None of the rest of us were stupid enough to provoke him in the first place," retorted Ivy.

"Well, it's only right his ego gets taken down a peg," replied Harley. "It ain't right for a guy to have that massive an ego, unless it's Mr. J. 'Course Mr. J has a few other massive things too," she giggled. "Massive ego, massive brain, massive…"

"Thanks, Harley, that's enough," interrupted Ivy.

"You're just jealous, Red," sighed Harley. "Jealous that you don't have a man like Mr. J, and have to settle for fantasies about the Bat. I may have told him you had the hots for him, by the way. Hope you don't mind."

"If he really is the World's Greatest Detective, he'll have figured it out," said Ivy. "Just remind me never to tell you any secrets ever, ok, Harley?"

"Probably best," agreed Harley. "Mr. J's always punishing me for shooting my mouth off. That may be why I do it so often," she giggled again.

Ivy rolled her eyes again and stood up. "I'm going to my cell," she said. "If you wanna talk any more about your private moments with the Joker, I suggest you start keeping a diary, because nobody in their right mind really wants to hear about it."

"Good thing we're in the loony bin, huh, Red?" called Harley after her, smiling. She stood up and went to her own cell, whistling happily. She hoped Ivy was right about Batman dragging the Joker back. But even if he didn't, she had faith that he would bust her out soon. It may be crazy to keep depending on him, but she was certifiably insane, after all, and it was only fair that she did some crazy things to prove it.

She lay down on her bed and held the picture of the Joker tightly against her chest, kissing it tenderly. "I'm a happy girl," she murmured, smiling. "A happy, happy girl."

**The End**


End file.
